Edward Farr, ed. Select Poetry of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth. 1845.
Psalme XVIVI. Sir Philip Sidney and the Countess of Pembroke
S
All the hope of all my hart:
Wittnesse thou, my soule, with me,
That to God, my God, I say,
Thou, my Lord, thou art my stay,
Though my workes reach not to thee.
Good and godly men I love;
And forsee their wretched paine,
Who to other gods doe runne:
Their blood-offerings I do shunne;
Nay, to name their names disdaine.
And of my childes part the bliss:
He then shall maintaine my lott.
Say then, is not my lott found
In a goodly pleasant ground?
Have not I faire partage gott?
Who dost ever councell me:
Ev’n when Night with his black wing,
Sleepy Darknes, doth orecast,
In my inward raines I tast
Of my faultes and chastening.
And he my right hand doth guard;
So can I not be opprest,
So my hart is fully gladd,
So in joy my glory cladd:
Yea, my flesh in hope shall rest.
On my soule noe pow’r shall have:
For I know thou wilt defend
Even the body of thine own
Deare beloved holy one
From a fowle corrupting end.
In whose view doth plenty growe
All delights that soules can crave;
And whose bodies placed stand
On thy blessed-making hand,
They all joies like-endless have.